Aoshi for Hire tentative title
by DraejonSoul
Summary: A cheeky look at the kooky life of muses and their writers. Insanity, inanity and OOC-ness galore!
1. Meet the Muses!

Disclaimers: Characters from Rurouni Kenshin belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro. 

Lyrics used in this fic is from "She" by Suede, from their "Coming Up" album.

Archive: My pad in Poetry in Blue, ffnet, and Pinoyfics ML. Archive with permission. 

Notes: I was in the middle of doing the next bits of Mending, when I was hit with this inspiration. This is a sort of parody on the zany life of muses and their writers, and the things we put them through. =P There's no intention of bashing anyone. All the pen-names are made up, and if anyone sees their pen-name in here, just drop a line. 

* * *

**Aoshi for Hire**

_Shinomori no Kami Daiji_

_"Life is a comedy to those that think   
and a tragedy to those that feel."_

**Prologue: Genesis of an A-Muse-ing Tale**

Peace and quiet. Two luxuries he can't have all the time, not even in his own room. If it wasn't Misao who tries to 'liven up his rather dull and monotonous existence', it was Okina who would spice things up for him. He didn't need any help running his life the last time he checked. As far as he's concerned, Shinomori Aoshi was his own person. And in control. 

Back to the elusive peace and quiet. He had been mentally counting the minutes, and it has been close to half an hour since nobody came to his door. He couldn't believe it. It was... quiet. Aoshi could hear the rustling of the leaves outside, the soft whisper of the afternoon breeze. Someone brought in his tea earlier, which he sipped from time to time as he leisurely read a book. Misao was in Tokyo, most likely to get herself in trouble together with Battousai and his friends. And Okina... well, was brushing up on his espionage techniques on the pretty new neighbors mext door. The other Oniwabanshu wisely left Aoshi to his own devices. Life was good. 

Aoshi sighed as he set the cup down. _It was too good to last._

"Just show your faces in here," he called out curtly. 

"Ooh! I just hate it when you do that!" 

The _shoji_ panel was swept aside, revealing a tall and regal feminine form. She at least had the decency to dress the era instead of the wispy, billowy clothes that was just plain distracting. Presently, she was wearing a light green _kimono_, but left her chestnut hair unbound, curls cascading about her shoulders. Clear violet eyes peeked from under thick batting lashes, which were batting in his direction. 

She wasn't alone. Another curly head popped out from behind her, smiling cheekily. Her hair was a lighter shade, barely kept up in a bun as the loose locks bobbed with every movement. She had the same laughing violet eyes. She stepped out from behind, clad in a peach _kimono_ with wild shades of red, yellow and pink flowers. 

"Can't you be surprised like normal people?" the second girl, younger-looking of the two, asked. 

"_Onmitsu_ taken by surprise usually end up dead," Aoshi stated flatly. He fixed his gaze on the taller woman. "State your business here, Erato." 

The ignored girl stepped in front of him. "'Well, hel-lo Thalia. How's it been?'" she chimed in. She tutted at him. "You should really do something about your social skills, Aoshi." 

He merely stared at her before shifting his eyes back to Erato. "Well?" 

"Oh, you know why we're here," she began as she sat from across the low table. 

"We're here to give you your assignment," Thalia put in, joining her sister, and obviously not put out by him. Damn. He was slipping. 

"Why should it take the two of you?" 

"To better explain your assignment," Thalia replied. "And we wanted to see your lovely self." She smiled that infernal smile again. 

Aoshi would have liked to sneer at the remark, but stopped himself. "Get on with it." 

He got a slight reproving look from Erato. "Oh, don't be that way, dear boy," she chided gently. "You should look forward to seeing us." 

Aoshi winced inwardly. It was an affliction with these Muses. He would have taken pleasure hacking their tongues off once they start their endearments. But his two _kodachi_ goes missing when they visited. 

"Anyway," Erato went on. "Here are your assignments." She handed him a small scroll. "Kewlrurounigirl-chan is relatively new to your clique. So I suggest you be patient with her." 

"But she's very excited to write her first fanfic!" Thalia enthused. 

"And she chose _you_ to write about!" Erato couldn't hide the glee in her tone. 

Thalia was clapping her hands. "Isn't it exciting?" 

Aoshi eyed one sister then the other. He didn't know why they'd think their warped concept of fun is is kind of "fun". 

"That still doesn't explain why it took the two of you to bring my assignment." _One of you is a nuisance already._

"If you _must_ know," Erato announced breezily, "Kewlrurounigirl-chan doesn't have a clue of the theme for her story." 

"So we're both here to help her!" Thalia put in. 

Erato stressed the point with a nod. "And since she's young, idealistic, romantic..." 

"Fanciful, likes a touch of humor..." 

_Not to mention heedless, _Aoshi would have liked to add. 

"We're here to exercise our powers and help her along! A romantic comedy piece for her first outing," concluded the Muse of Love Poetry. 

"Yes!" Thalia seconded. 

"Then, why don't you two go?" Aoshi inquired. 

Thalia blew out a melodramatic sigh as she propped her chin on her palms. "In this bright age of technology and what-nots, these mortals don't even know we exist!" 

"You're forgetting the scholars, dear," Erato reminded her sister. 

"That's beside the point!" Thalia countered. "And they're sister Calliope's groupies, anyway." 

Erato covered her giggling mouth. "We're channeling our powers through you since you're the source of the inspiration now." 

"I'm sure that explains everything," Aoshi said wryly. 

Thalia waved a hand at him. Oh, don't be such a grouch, Aoshi." 

"Just show her the ropes, Aoshi," Erato instructed. "Don't forget to show her a few tips." 

"Such as, 'You have the right to remain silent'?" 

The sisters stared wide-eyed at him, then suddenly burst out laughing. 

"Oh, dear boy, you're good!" Erato cried in between the tinkling laughter. 

"Who would have thought the man without a demeanor can have a funny side?" 

"It's the demeanor, remember?" Aoshi declared, unamused. "Or lack thereof." 

Erato subsided into chuckles. "Just help this first girl out. The others, some you already know. Any other information you need are there." 

Aoshi unrolled the paper and scanned the contents. The intelligence sector of these Muses were very efficient. They would have been a great addition to the Oniwabanshu ranks. He did hint at it to Erato once, but she said the uniforms "weren't a good color on her." 

"So," the Muse of Comedy asked. "Any questions?" 

_ Several. Beginning with why am I being punished?_ "No," he replied instead. 

"Good," Erato said primly, starting to rise. "You may begin as soon as possible." She backed a few steps, then disappeared in a shower of gold. Thalia followed after her, but not before blowing a kiss in his direction and faded into the air. 

Aoshi released a small growl. So much for control.

****

**Assignment I: The Amazing Misao Sue**

_Where am I this time?_

He always hated the transporting part. He couldn't tell how it worked, but he knew it involved the little piece of paper in his hand. First, he would feel a strange aura from it, followed by small sparks in the air that surrounded it. And, in one instance, from quietly sitting in his room in the Aoiya, then he appears right smack in the middle of spirits knows what. He didn't mind going places he'd never even imagined. But, most of the time, he'd rather know where he landed next. 

Like right now. But, then again, muses can't be choosers. Just like they can't choose their writers. There are no exceptions. 

When he 'reappeared', Aoshi instantly recognized where he was. It was already a familiar scene he finds himself in at most times: in the middle of a classroom lecture. It only meant one thing. Someone wasn't paying attention. 

Kewlrurounigurl-chan was too easy to spot, and it took him no time at all to spot his quarry: vacant eyes staring endlessly at a spot on her classmate's shoe three seats away, tapping randomly on her desk with a pencil while an open notebook lay before her. If Aoshi was a gambling man, he would have bet—and won—it wasn't today's lecture that had her distracted. 

Aoshi tugged at his collar, looking down at himself with a contained sigh. He hated the clothes they put on him. Now, it's the same outfit the young boys in the room were wearing: white, buttoned polo shirt and dark pants. There are times he could tolerate it. But as to why they'd have to replace his undergarments with those modern ones... 

He approached her desk, peering at the writing in the notebook. Now, where has he seen that before? He's an icy, new student in high school where all the girls swoon at the sight of him, except the brainy, captain of the _kempo_ team, Makimachi Misao. They'd bicker, she'd hate his guts, he wouldn't care. Until something really bad happens to him and he gets rescued, by some extraordinary luck, by Misao herself. Finally, he realizes her true gentle nature, and begins to— 

"How long do you plan to write this?" Aoshi asked aloud. He learned, over a period of time, that these writers are the only ones that hear him. 

"Dunno," she replied under her breath. "Ten, maybe twenty chapters." She wrote a few more lines. 

Twenty? It was going to last _that_ long? "With the current... _plot_... that you have, won't your story stretch a bit too thin?" Aoshi asked, placing his words carefully. 

The carefully coiffed little head shook stubbornly, but discreetly. "Nuh-uh, not with the scenes with you and Misao," she answered in the same undertone. She bit her lower lip in excitement. "I can't wait to write them all!" 

"All?" Aoshi repeated flatly. He glanced at the newly written paragraph. It was how he and Misao get formally introduced as sparring partners for the kempo tryouts. And, by some sheer twist of fate, Misao will land him flat on his ass. 

Aoshi blinked. Misao? The little girl who barely reached his knee when he first took care of her, now almost reaching his navel, floor him in _kempo_? He decided to speak out, leaving out the height part. "Don't you think that with our skills, I could beat her?" Aoshi inquired. 

"Aw, come on, Aoshi! This is AU! Anything can happen here!" she quipped.

"I see," Aoshi clarified, crossing his arms. "Where anything can happen beyond the bounds of plausibility?"

Kewlrurounigurl-_chan_ frowned slightly. "Beyond what?" 

"Plausibility. Something worthy of belief. Where anybody can think it's possible in real life." Aoshi wanted to launch to an extensive explanation, but held off. Explaining meant using bigger words. Which meant more explanations. He was having a hard time as it is. And he was supposed to be patient.

_Yes. Patience. Try another tact._

"_Kempo_ is a style that mostly hard fighting techniques. With her height and build, do you honestly think she can take me down?"

Kewlrurounigurl-chan stared at him quizzically while keeping her head down.

"But, but, Misao ought to beat you in this AU!" she hissed.

"Not if she's six-foot-five and weighs two hundred pounds," he put in.

"But she's head of the _kempo_ team!"

"She's half my height." Aoshi sighed. It just _had_ to come out...

"Misao's—she's been training since she was five. So there," she added victoriously.

"If she's been weight-training since five, then go ahead," Aoshi answered with a careless shrug. "If I'm going to be 'flattened' in the way you wrote it, you have to back it up, like what method was used, what tact she tried."

The girl's face held a grimace, as she turned back to her notes and began writing. Aoshi waited. He watched the ongoing class for a few moments before turning back to Kewlrurounigurl-chan again. She already filled a page on her notebook. He stood behind her to read the contents. He frowned. Now, Misao was applying icepack on him, while gloating over her victory over the snobbish newcomer.

"You didn't change the sparring scene," he prompted.

She set down her pen slowly. "Well, I know next to squat about _kempo_," she grumbled from the side of her mouth, "so why bother? Let the readers use their imaginations, anyways." She returned to her work.

Aoshi closed his eyes briefly and took a long breath. "Sometimes, a little detail would help push the reader's imaginations along," he explained evenly.

Kewlrurounigurl-_chan_ didn't seem to have heard him, still scribbling along on her notebook, her lips moving soundlessly, grinning from time to time as if tickled by something. _Am I being ignored?_

He coughed discreetly. "Aren't you supposed to be listening to your teacher, anyway?" he suddenly asked.

She snorted. "Anything's better than listening to how some dead guy made our lives miserable by memorizing formulas."

The _onmitsu_ was about to object when the teacher called her attention.

"Maybe you can share those insights to us instead of that empty chair there?" he asked, a hand on his hip.

As laughter erupted, Aoshi watched in quiet amusement as the color rose from her neck to the tips of her ears. It was one of the few perverted pleasures he can get being a writer's muse: getting the writers in trouble. He lingered a few more seconds as she stood up and sputtered some explanation before he disappeared. He'll come back once she's ready. 

**Assignment II: The Neverending Triple Dot-Dot-Dot**

Aoshi took in the new surroundings. He could tell it was a girl's bedroom. He'd been in several for some time to know. Light-hued curtains, pictures of some young men hanging on the walls, the vanity table littered with eye-catching baubles that seemed to be in every corner he looked. Even the air filled with what they call music. He was already getting a headache from the sound, and he hasn't even started. He instantly wondered how they could even think in this din.

He took a glance at the scroll. MetalSakura1451 has been writing about other series as well, and usually writes stories of Kenshin and Kaoru. She had Aoshi summoned to help her write an interaction scene with him and Himura. Which meant...

"_Konnichiwa,_ Aoshi," the red-haired swordsman in question greeted amiably. He was sitting on the floor by the bed, where a girl in her late teens was lying on her stomach, socked feet swinging in the air. She looked up at Battousai's words, her ponytal bobbing as she did so. Her mouth was chewing noisily. Her head was nodding in time with the heavy percussions.

_... She-ee-eee walking like a killer_   
_ She-ee-eee another night, another pillow..._

"You must be that moody _ninja_ guy," MetalSakura1451 spoke off-handedly as she stared up at Aoshi.

"The _name_ is Shinomori Aoshi," he prompted, parking himself by the dresser table.

She shrugged. "'kay." She looked down on her pat to write.

"What's the scene about?" Aoshi decided to ask Battousai.

"She doesn't have a solid idea yet," Himura Kenshin replied. "But she thought seeing you here would help her write the scene, _de gozaryu_."

"And the story?"

_... No stimulation_   
_ She's the arse of the natioOOoon..._

"An alternate setting during the Meiji. You're my main rival for Kaoru-_dono_'s affection."

"Your what?" These were the times he damned his exceptional hearing.

The smaller man grinned, his cheeks stained pink. If Aoshi didn't know any better, he wouldn't think the Battousai was comfortable with it. But his mind was fixated on something else. _Rival?_

"Is the scene done, MetalSakura1451-_dono_?" Himura asked mildly.

She handed the notepad over. Aoshi regarded the other swordsman as he looked over MetalSakura1451's work. His face was kept neutral as he passed the paper to the taller man. It was a scene where he and Himura confronted each other. He mentally tried tuning out the music as he began reading. The writing style was not so bad, until it reached the dialogue:

'So, you are my closest contender for Kaoru-_dono_,' Kenshin spoke, dropping the cordiality of his _rurouni_ nature. His eyes narrowed. The ninja had a relaxed but tense posture.

Aoshi frowned. Maybe she implied he was taking a defensive stance. He read on:

The man they call Aoshi Shinomori kept his gloved hands in his trenchcoat pockets, staring at him in a not-so-friendly way.

'...'

His eyebrows shot skywards. How... original.

_ 'Why?' Kenshin demanded in menacing undertone._

_'...' Aoshi crossed his arms in defiance, his way of saying "It's none of your business." (--Aoshi sniffed. Like hell it isn't.)_

_'And did you come here to prove your love by eliminating me?' the samurai asked._

_In answer, Aoshi drew his twin kodachi and stood in the ready._

_'Aa.' He launched in a sudden attack_

He handed the paper to MetalSakura1451. _So much for interaction._ "It's—entertaining, but..."

"What?" MetalSakura1451 asked excitedly as she propped up on her elbows. "Entertaining but what?"

Aoshi didn't know where to start. He wasn't sure what to tell the girl since he was only a secondary character in the story. From previous experience, writers hardly ever listen to secondary muses, specially opinionated ones. Saito's face suddenly came to mind. 

_... She is baahd  
She is bored  
She is bony  
She is..._

He shut his eyes briefly. Gods, it must be the sound getting into his nerves... 

"Try rewriting the dialogue," he answered. "It sounds a little stilted. Think of it like a normal conversation."

MetalSakura1451 gaped at him in wonder, eyes rounded. When she came back to reality, the first thing she remembered to do was to chew on her so-called bubblegum. Then she said, "Whoa. Like you actually talk a lot?"

He cast a disbelieving glance at Himura, who gave him another resigned shrug. He wasn't being helpful. Himura was getting close to getting himself throttled. The wailing hellcat doesn't seem to want to stop. _Will someone turn off that awful noise??_

"What makes you think I don't?" Aoshi asked.

Her eyes rolled upwards. "Whatever." She shifted to face Himura, her gaze taking on a strange sparkle. "What do you think, Ken honey?"

Aoshi pursed his lips, amused at seeing the other man's eyes rounding like ricebowls and at the '_Oro!_' that squeaked from his lips.

_Yes, what do you think, Ken honey?_ Oh, the other male muses would have wanted to see this.

"Well," Himura managed to regain his tongue, "sessha thinks it's a sensible idea, _de gozaryu_."

MetalSakura1451 sprang up on her bed and sat cross-legged. "Cool!" She balanced the paper on her knees and took on a thoughtful expression, twirling her pen.

Himura stood up and joined Aoshi's side. "Let's give Sakura-_dono_ some time to finish that," he told him.

"Fine," Aoshi put in listlessly. Silence.

"Shouldn't Kamiya Kaoru be here to help in the story?" Aoshi asked quietly after a while. "She's also a primary character, after all."

"_Oro_?"

"I've noticed that I don't see Misao around, even when the stories written are centered around the two of us. It seems the same with you."

Himura nodded. "_Sessha_ observed that as well," he replied. "I'm just speculating, but sessha thinks they know how the women would interact in the scenes. More so with the—" he coughed—"men in their lives."

Aoshi blinked. "I... see," he responded. "What it is, really, is they're acting in their places."

The other warrior shrugged. "Some of the time, perhaps," he admitted. "Being a female gives them perspective of what they would do."

The former _okashira_ nodded slightly. They watched in silence at MetalSakura1451's concentrated form, her young face seriously set.

"Tell me this, Battousai. Does it make sense?"

The tousled red head turned to slowly face Aoshi, the face turned up with a plastered smile.

Aoshi's lips curled up sardonically. _So I thought._

He pushed off from the table. "I think my job here is done," he announced a bit loudly to catch MetalSakura1451's attention.

Her writing hand raised in response."Yeah. Sure. See ya."

"But," Himura pleaded, "she hasn't even finished the scene. How can you leave immediately?"

He glared at the smaller man. "Really, Battousai. What other significant ideas can I give her?" Aoshi asked pointedly.

"Ah, well..."

"It's settled." He stood up again. "You can fill in my lines just fine. Just..." he gave a slow shrug, "say 'Aa'." 

Himura turned a withering stare at him. "Aoshi," he warned.

He headed for the door without as much as a backward glance. "Later, Battousai."

_Shee-ee-eeee ooo WOO hooo_

_Tsuzuku_

* * *

Terms:

_-chan_ - term of endearment, usually for girls and little children.   
_de gozaryu_ - an obsolete term, used to emphasize a point, _de gozaryu_.   
_dono _- attached to a person's name to show respect.   
_kempo_ - a form of martial art.   
_kimono_ - Japanese type of clothes, usually worn by women.   
_konnichiwa _- Hello/Good afternoon; greeting in the daytime.  
_ninja_ - (oh, come on now...)   
_okashira_ - 'honorable head' (title used to call the leader of the Oniwabanshu)  
_onmitsu_ - spy  
_rurouni_ - masterless samurai   
_samurai_ - (... and. you. call. yerself. an. RK. fan. =P)  
_oro_ - a form of exclamation... and, _no_, Kenshin doesn't have excluive rights to this word.   
_sessha_ - uh, "My insignificant self"? Usually Kenshin uses this in his mission to be over-polite. ^_^   
_shoji_ - sliding paper door panel found in old Japanese homes.

A/N:

Wonder which Greek Muse will show up next. Anyway, here's their lineup: Calliope (Epic poetry), Clio (History), Euterpe (Lyric poetry/song), Melpomene (Tragedy), Erato (Love Poetry), Thalia (Comedy), Terpsichore (Choral Dancing), Polyhymnia (Sacred Poetry/Song), and Urania (Astronomy). 

And who else from the RK world will pop up? We'll see.


	2. Dirty Banshee, Frisky Pappy

I have no excuse for the delay. It's the muse's fault. =P   
  
It's been really, really, really hectic at work in the coming holidays. That and my monitor's still isn't fixed. T_T   
  
Before I forget, I waive any claims on any characters from Ranma 1/2. I just did a little name-dropping.  
  
Just a quick warning for the foul language used in this chappie.   
  
On with the madness! 

* * *

**Assignment III: Aoshi and the Banshee**

_Ultrapoink. Writer of several fanfics from different realms, especially about a brilliant, yet aloof basketball player. Favorite genres are romance, drama, or comedy, or a mixture of any two. Her..._

Aoshi let his hand drop to his side, holding the scroll loosely between two fingers. He's read enough. Romance again.

Everything went dark once more, and then light came gradually, illuminating a closed door. As he turned the knob quietly and opened the door, steam came at him in a lazy swirling mist. He tensed automatically, reaching for his kodachi that wasn't there. When the haze cleared, he saw a girl with large, shocked eyes wrapped in a towel. Wearing just a towel.

"Eeep!"

Explain yourself out of this one.

"OUT!"

He easily dodged the objects thrown at his way, glancing at each item flying past him. Interesting what she can find in her anger.

_Zing!_ "I wasn't"--_dodge_--"doing"--_zip, duck_--"anything--"

"Oh, just get out, will you?" she wailed, not pausing as she threw a bathroom item after another.

Aoshi closed the door behind him, shaking his head. _Those..._ people... _can find out every bit of information about these writers, but they can't drop me off properly._ He sat on the stool by the dresser table and waited. 

The bathroom door finally opened and Ultrapoink emerged, her head wrapped in a towel and, this time, clad in a yellow bathrobe. The minute she stepped out of the door, she gave him a dirty look.

"Didn't figure you to be a pervert."

"I didn't know that the door led to the bathroom," Aoshi explain. He gave mental pause. The excuse sounded so pathetic. _I'll remember to talk to those Muses,_ he thought darkly.

Ultrapoink shot him another look as she went to her desk and picked up a small yellow notebook.

"Just make yourself busy with this while I change," she ordered as she handed him her notebook, heading to another door. "And stay put."

Casually scanning the first pages, half of the notebook was based on a certain Rukawa and Reiko. Then Aoshi finally reached the pages that looked familiar to him, and started to browse further into detail. They were mostly summaries and rough drafts: 

_Aoshi and Misao are treasure hunters on a hunt for a... _No... 

_Aoshi lost his girlfriend in an accident, meets a cheerful neighbor named Misao, they--_No. 

_Special Alpha Force Agent Misao Makimachi is hot on a trail for the most elusive double agent Aoshi Shinomori..._ Where have I seen that before?... 

_Kaoru, Misao and Megumi are best friends in high school, until chaos comes in the form of sleek and sophisticated Literature instructor Aoshi--_ What?! 

_After being dumped by Aoshi, Misao succumbs to depression and leaves the--_ **NO.**

Ultrapoink has been very busy, Aoshi noted. But the latest draft caught his eye. _A woman with mysterious ties to the Oni wa Banshu comes knocking at the Kamiya dojo._ This was something new. It certainly looked more promising than the others.

Ultrapoink emerged as if on cue, wearing a loud yellow top with the words 'Girls on Top' emblazoned red amidst painted flowers, and light blue shorts.

"The draft you titled 'Dance with the Past' has promise," Aoshi remarked, using his words carefully.

A small smirk played on her face. "Well, I'm glad you noticed it," she responded. "It's actually one that's been playing around in my head." She reached over and flipped over several pages. "Here are the scenes I've got so far. Not in stone yet, so to speak."

The first few paragraphs told briefly how a stranger showed up at Kori's door and called Kenshin out...

Aoshi blinked several times. _Kori?_ When it dawned on him, he mentally shook his head. _Why can't they get the names right?_

He read on. The stranger almost beats Kenshin in the same style Aoshi used. But before she deals the death blow, the mask was torn to reveal a woman's face, with rich beautiful green hair (_--Green?--_) and gray eyes. Kenshin was quietly smitten by her beauty, while Sano was instantly attracted to her.

Jump to a random scene. Aoshi is quietly drinking tea in the temple when he gets a visitor. It was Reiko.

Aoshi paused in reading, rolled his eyes then continued.

"Reiko" triggered floods of memories of his past before he left Aoiya. He and Reiko argue, him asking why she left, her asking why he didn't look for her.

"So why didn't I 'look for her'?" Aoshi asked Ultrapoink for the sake of asking. 

"Hello?" Ultrapoink peered at him with wide eyes, hands on hips. "Because you went temporarily ballistic and went after Kenshin's hide?" 

He seemed to be reminded of that little fact every time.

"And?" he prompted.

"And??" Her tone raised a notch. "And that's what you're here to help me with! Cheez..."

"Granted, she's part of my past, what is she like? What is her part in my past?"

Ultrapoink flicked her gaze to the ceiling, tapping her chin. "Lessee... She was part of the Oni wa Banshuu..."

"You mean Oniwabanshu."

She spared him a glance. "Whatever. Anyway, she was part of your gang and she left before you did."

There was something else... Aoshi frowned slightly. "Meaning to say I left because of her." To this, she nodded. "Why?"

Her eyes went round again. "Isn't it obvious, Iceman?" Ultrapoink was screeching, her arms flailing. "You're in love with her, ya big dope!"

She was expecting a surprised reaction from him. He was, but he'll be damned before he let her know that. "I am?" he said for the sake of showing a reaction and nothing more.

"Yes!" she exclaimed emphatically. "That's why you've been moping around, living like a hollow shell! Reiko walked out of your life, and now that she's back, you don't know what to do!" 

Ultrapoink had begun pacing madly in front of him as he watched.

"What?" She looked unnerved by his lingering gaze.

"In essence, would you say the Reiko you wrote about for that other character is the same Reiko you're pairing me up with?"

Ultrapoink looked genuinely surprised by his question. "Uh... yeah?" came her slow reply. Her hands were on her hips again as she stared back defiantly. "What's wrong with that?"

Aoshi leaned back with a nonchalant shrug. A frontal attack is the best tact for this one. He needed to end this now. "I suppose there's nothing wrong with living out your fantasies. Perhaps you should get a suitor." 

A full second. That was how long it took for Ultrapoink's cheeks to flush pink. Her hands froze to her sides.

"Like... it's none of your business!" she burst out. "Besides, I'm too young to think about that! Besides, I have studies to think about and..."

Aoshi held up a hand. He's heard enough. His sensitive ears could only take so much. He handed her the notebook and stood up.

Ultrapoink gave him a scowl. "And just where do you think you're going?" 

Aoshi half-turned to her. "You'll need to read about the Tokugawa timeline for any of those flashbacks with... Reiko and I."

"Whaaaat?" Now she was wailing.

"To get the feel of the scene," he went on unperturbed. "You have to know what it is like in that time: What clothes were worn, what the political atmosphere was like, the culture..."

The girl gave him a blank gaze. "You're kidding, right?"

He leveled a gaze at her. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

"And you're leaving **me** here to do the digging on my own when you actually lived there, and can, like, tell me??" Ultrapoink groused. 

It was Aoshi's turn to give the exasperated look. "Who is the writer here? Besides, I am actually going to help you find what you need."

"How?" _Ah, she knows how to be skeptic..._

"By showing you _where_ to look," he answered. "I will do my work, you do yours." He turned away.

"So that's it, then?" Aoshi heard her say, the wind taken out of her sails.

_Hn. It's about time._

"Fine, then," Ultrapoink said with mock enthusiasm. "I'll just plow my way through the web and see what I could scrounge up."

He continued walking to the door. Sympathy was the last thing on his mind. "There are still things called books."

She was shaking her head. "Ooooh no. I'm not even gonna go near the library."

"Suit yourself." 

As the door closed behind him, his surroundings beginning to dim, he allowed himself a thin smile. _The beauty of being a spy..._

****

**Assignment IV: Talk Dirty to Me**

The next writer in the scroll was... _Oh, no. Chicslickchick._ He worked with her on some occasions. Her style was different, he recalled, as his dark surroundings lightened. The ground had disappeared under his feet, but he didn't fall. In fact, he felt his legs begin to work, progressing to a run. His right arm was raised, strong fingers wrapped around the cold metal of a Beretta. He also noted his _onmitsu_ uniform had been replaced with modern clothing. There was still the long coat, then buttoned-down shirt and pants. The next thing he knew, he was running alongside cars, swiftly passing through speeding traffic.

Aoshi cursed silently. He just hated Chicslickchick's "reenactment" (dunno what term to use style.

He instantly spotted his perpetrator, or at least he's made to think so. He was closing in. The man ducked into a narrow side-street. As Aoshi anchored himself on a street sign to make the sharp turn, he saw the felon run into a dead end, in a form of a high chain link fence.

Aoshi skidded to a halt several feet away as the blonde man tried to climb up the fence. Aoshi fired a shot, missing the man's gravity-defying hair by inches.

"Give it up, asshole, you've got nowhere to go!" he roared. _Wait. I roar?_

The guy stopped his frantic climbing, his shoulders drooping, and turned to face Aoshi. He regarded him with one squinting eye.

"Well, if it ain't the legendary Det. Shinomori on the beat," he greeted sarcastically. "Getting any lately?"

Aoshi advanced a step. "Shut up, you little prick!" he snapped. "Make any stupid move. _Please_." He tensed on his grip. 

_... Since when did I get so vulgar?!_

The perp's lips rounded. "Oho, tough words from a tough guy," he taunted, "Are you a tough guy, huh?"

Aoshi gave a little smirk. "You'll find out real soon, you bastard."

Said bastard made a beckoning gesture. "Bring it on, bitch."

_I can't stand this anymore..._ "Is this really necessary?" Aoshi asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He whisked around, facing upwards.

"Hey. Hello? Um, Aoshi? The perp's right here," his captive reminded him. "Quit talking to yerself."

Aoshi ignored him. "Will I arrest him, will I shoot him, or will we be swearing at each other to death?"

"Well, if you ask me," the other tried again, "I'd go for the third option. It's safer."

"Be quiet, Cho."

He felt rather than saw Cho shrug his shoulders. "Fine. Get us in trouble, then."

What's the problem now?

The female's voice boomed all around them. Aoshi saw Cho jump at the sound. "Are they all this scary?" 

"You haven't seen half of it," Aoshi murmured.

I heard that.

Aoshi ignored Chicslickchick's threatening tone. "Couldn't you have at least told us beforehand what this is about?"

"Uh, you gotta admit, Clickslickkick, Aoshi's got a point," Cho pointed out, scratching his head.

It's _Chicslickchick_, she corrected.

Cho waved it off. "Yeah. Sure. Can't you tell the story like normal people do? So us simple-minded muses can get your drift."

"Speak for yourself." 

Cho gave the _onmitsu_ a withering look. "Hn. Cute, Aoshi..."

Sorry, Chicslickchick spoke up. That's how it works for me. I gotta whip up the scene in my head before writing it down. Like shooting a movie.

_Only backwards_, Aoshi added to himself.

"But the dialogue, for cryin' out loud! Can't you do something about that? I sound like some dirty, low-life scum."

"_You are._" Aoshi and the writer blurted out in unison.

The blond man put a hand over his chest. "Oh, that hurts," he lamented cynically. Hit me right here, Chickslickety."

The _name_ is Chicslickchick!

Aoshi looked up again. "What is the story about?" he pressed.

Er, story?

"Yeah!" Cho put in. "What's with the chase around the city gimmick?"

Well...

She was taking too long to answer. "There is no story, is there?" Aoshi finished for her.

Oh, uh--my! You're pretty sharp there, Aoshi! She let out a shaky laugh. Isn't he, Cho?

Cho wasn't listening. He was seething. Turning red and seething.

"No... _story?_" he grated. "No script, no mock-up, no written story???" A vein on his temple threatened to burst.

"What are we here for, then?" Aoshi drew her attention again. He could practically see her tapping her forefingers together.

Cuz, y'see... Chicslickchick began to explain haltingly I can't think of a good storyline yet. I watched this cool cop show, and I thought, 'What if Aoshi's a cop on the beat?' And... 

Aoshi blew out a breath. "And that's it," he appended flatly.

Uh, ye-eah, she said slowly. But I'm working on the storyline. Honest! she hastily added.

_My precious time, wasted. For this._

Cho was shaking his fist in her general direction, or at least where they think she is. "You drag me out here, Shlicky, just to Show and Tell? I oughta--"

You wouldn't threaten a mere high school student, would you, Cho? Chicslickchick gasped. How could you! To think I'm giving you a cha--you're leaving, Aoshi?

Aoshi was starting to walk out of the alley. "Call me when you have a real story," he called out.

But, but... what if it takes me ages to come up with one?

And to think she was yet to finish one of several... "That _would_ be a shame, wouldn't it?" Aoshi remarked coolly as he walked off. "You best be on your way, Cho."

Cho blinked at him in response, his fury momentarily forgotten. "Uh, yeah... sure."

These people were driving him insane. And made him hungry. It was almost noon, Aoshi estimated, that he decided to have lunch at the Aoiya.

That is, after he wash his mouth out thoroughly.

****

**Interlude: Lunch Break**

Aoshi had to admit to himself: food can satisfy a man. That and being able to thrash someone. He hadn't done that lately that he thought he should have, especially during the last four outings. Why couldn't he find a decent writer that could pit him into worthy battles? But then, he hadn't found any writer who came out with anything decent to his liking. Okina once called it finicky. He insisted it was "quality control". Misao thought it was "a good challenge." 

Aoshi was graced with their company at the meal table, who were quiet in the first few moment of their lunch. Aoshi knew tongues will get restless. He didn't care; it was either these two rather than a flock of rabid, over imaginative writer.

"So, how did your day go, children?" Okina asked genially. But Aoshi sensed his eyes were on him.

"I don't want to talk about it," was Aoshi's quiet reply, not broaching any argument.

"You don't always want to talk about it!" Either Okina couldn't take a hint or he was deliberately goading him.

"I don't see a need to." His chopsticks dug quickly into his rice bowl.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Misao set her bowl down. "Was it that bad?" she asked out of genuine curiosity.

"One had you land me on my backside, one had the temerity to write me as Kamiya's suitor, the third paired me with some woman stronger than Himura himself, and the last writer simply has no idea what she's doing." He didn't wait for any reaction and went on eating.

Both listeners were stunned to silence, having hardly heard him talk at length. It was short-lived as Okina broke into shameless laughter and Misao tried to suppress her giggling. Aoshi gave out a long-suffering sigh.

"It seems that these ladies know what you need in your life," Okina snickered.

"And that is?" Aoshi had to ask.

"Why, a woman!" Okina pointed out, making it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's apparent that they are intimidated by your character that a change is in order." His eyes took on a suspicious gleam. "And what more can be appropriate than having someone tame that cold, ruthless heart of yours? Why I'm sure they--"

"No, you're not," he interrupted what was going to be a speech on improving his social life. Why can't people leave his personal life be? They all act as if he couldn't handle his own affairs. And that business of pairing Misao and himself...! Aoshi had to rally his self-control to stop from shuddering. She was practically her little sister! How could you fall in love with someone you changed diapers for?

"But why don't you want to get involved with a woman?" Misao asked unabashedly.

"Because I do not want to." Aoshi uttered every syllable for emphasis without sounding rude. And that was the end of that argument. He relished the annoyed look on the older man's face.

Unfortunately, Okina wasn't to be put out. "What about you, angel?" he asked sweetly, turning to Misao.

Misao literally came to life. "It was great! I was paired off in a comedy with Soujiro, then an action adventure with Enishi... oh, and that reminds me!" Their young ward turned to Aoshi. "Li'l Moonbeam says she needs help on your dialogue in her story of us together."

Aoshi was tempted to ask which one since there was so many fanfiction works of them as a couple that he lost track. Their pairing was a novelty at the beginning; but, when the same theme is written every day, as the young people would say, it gets old very fast. The usual plot was so commonplace that he would have written out the story for the wretched writers himself.

Aoshi cocked a brow. "I have a dialogue...?" He said instead as he brought the tea to his lips.

Old Okina was shaking his head. "What is it with you and madmen that attracts them so, Misao-_chan_?"

Misao's aura suddenly flared. Aoshi chose that moment to draw the dish of smoked eel to himself with his chopsticks. The girl's palm slammed onto the table where the plate used to be. He picked at the meat and went on eating unperturbed. Misao used to be subdued around him. But when her very first outburst in his presence (also caused by Okina) caused no reaction from him, she had since let out the spitfire in her as she pleased. Aoshi was, in fact, privately amused by her volatile temper, and never tried to reprimand her.

"Hey! At least **we** get writing assignments." She backed down with one look from Aoshi, but she retained a wicked grin. "Unlike a certain you-know-who who does nothing but chase tail."

It was Okina's turn to grin, too unsettling for their liking. Aoshi and Misao cast each other a suspecting glance.

"Ah, you'll be proud of me now, girl," the old man announced as he tugged at his beard. "Melpomene-_dono_ called me in this morning."

Aoshi was intrigued, but he didn't care to know. But Misao was.

"And?"

Okina was puffing out his chest. "Someone wanted to do a scene done in my perspective." He was practically grinning to himself.

Misao's eyes rounded. "_Mou_, someone got **that** desperate?" She propped her chin on two fists.

He cleared his throat, ignoring the gibe. "If you must know," Okina proclaimed with an air, "that _someone_ happened to write a very challenging scene starring yours truly."

For his part, Aoshi had lost interest in the discussion and found the bottom contents of his teacup much more fascinating.

She was squirming in her seat. "Oooh, don't keep us in suspense!" Misao urged. "Spill already!"

With a captive audience--not counting Aoshi--Okina announced proudly, "I, Kashiwazaki Nenji, will have a VERY hot romantic scene with Cologne from Ranma." 

_With Shampoo's great-grandmother?!_ It was either that or the words "romantic scene" that triggered a malfunction in his swallowing mechanism. Aoshi had to physically restrain himself to stop the tea from spurting out of his nostrils. Which was difficult to do at the moment. Luckily, he had a paper napkin nearby to cover any disgraceful traces.

"What?!" he managed to blurt out in between coughing fits.

"Eeeeeeew! Jiya!!" Misao grimaced at him as she moved to Aoshi's side. "Not while we're eating!" She began pounding on Aoshi's back.

Now Aoshi was **very** interested. "What's the writer's name? Where does she live?" he all but demanded.

Okina held out a placating hand. "Now, now, Aoshi. You know the rules. You can't turn against writers, our fellow muses or the Seven Muses."

_Damn_. Did he have to remind him of that little fact? Still seething, Aoshi managed to ask, "How long has this story been going on?"

"Well, you know how it goes with these writers." Okina shrugged. "This has been an on and off project for some time now, this Ranma series crossover. The writing went smoothly at the beginning until Shampoo herself intervened. The story needed to move along, so I thought I give it a little push."

He couldn't believe his ears. "You gave her the idea?" Aoshi barely noticed his fingers held the cup in a death grip.

Poor Okina seemed to be oblivious of his glowering former wards. "And why not? It's not like the girl doesn't know what goes on behind closed doors."

Aoshi had started counting to ten slowly after Okina's announcement. He was already on his fifth try, but it did not improve his mounting temper.

Aoshi glanced at the flustered girl before turning on Okina. "And how much did you... expose?" 

"What makes you think I do things halfway?" the elder Oniwaban laughed. "I think we've tried all the possible--"

"Waaaah! Enough already!" Misao was frantically flapping her hands, and then went to cover her ears. "A man who's practically my grandfather having--having... aaaaagh!"

Okina and Aoshi watched as Misao stand up and leave, hands still on her ears, babbling and making unintelligible sounds on her way out. Both stared after her.

"I'm sure you're quite happy with yourself." Aoshi made sure Okina won't miss the sarcasm.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Okina went on as he picked up his rice bowl. "It's my first own story vehicle. And you youngsters aren't even in it." He moved to pick at a dish of tofu. His _hashi_ was intercepted by another.

"What's wrong?" Okina queried, an infuriating smile on his face. "Upset you're not in it?"

"Didn't you consider the consequences?" Aoshi gazed hard. "Where is your dignity?"

Okina scowled at the younger man and his meddling chopsticks. He shook against it, but the wooden grip didn't move.

He finally gave up the struggle and released the tofu with a sigh. "What are you so worried about, Aoshi? Everything was done tastefully." He shot a disdainful look at hearing a snort. "All right. It hardly... tickled the fancy. Besides, what do these young people really know about the art of lovemaking?"

"How old were you supposed to be in this story?"

Okina paused in thought. "I'm not quite sure, but I believe it to be in our younger years. Feh. She even described my well-toned physique as unrivalled compared to yours!" He flexed his arms to prove his point.

Aoshi rolled his eyes then glanced at the open _shoji_ panel. "You should have mentioned that earlier," he reproved. "It would have saved Misao from the shock of hearing you still sexually active at... your age." Even his stomach couldn't bear the mere thought.

For his part, Okina made a show of picking up his cup and toasting his _sake_ at him.

"And spoil my fun?"

* * *

  
Terms:   
_hashi_-- chopsticks  
  
_Mou_-- "Oh", or an exclamation similar to it.   
  
_shoji_-- paper sliding door in Japanese houses.  
  
'Nit'-ing notes: Although "Oni", "wa", and "banshu" have Japanese equivalents, they sure don't pertain to _this group_. If you make a thorough search on google, there's this ONE historical site (NOT RK) that does mention "Oniwaban". And it roughly defines the Oniwabanshu as "garden guards" (_"niwa"_ + _"ban"_). And from all indication, they ain't no gang, either. They just beat you up more gracefully and discreetly. ^_^   
  
So yes, I try to research as much as I can or fall prey to Okashira-san's wrath. It's a tedious job, but a story doesn't sit right if there isn't some effort of realism in it.  
  
  
I know Aoshi sounds too harsh on the poor writers. That, and I'm just as twisted in my sense of humor. But think about it; he might even do worse. And the Seven Muses had the foresight of magically making his swords disappear whenever he has the urge to use it. Heheh, tough luck, ne, Aoshi?   
  
And if anybody's wondering when I'll update Mending: A Prelude... ask me that in another 3 weeks or so. 


End file.
